


In New Light

by CyberSearcher



Series: Celestial AU [1]
Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Angst, Celestial AU, Cole is Confused, Do it, Gen, Kai is the Sun, Lou is Trying, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Some comfort, Tags Are Hard, Thank You Fane, and cole in this au, go read Fane's Fic, no beta we die like zane, that, that happens, what do you call 'refrencing another fanfic', wump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24871543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberSearcher/pseuds/CyberSearcher
Summary: It’s the summer solstice and today, Cole will be preforming a play at the Shrine to the Sun in the hopes to attract the Celestials attention. His father hopes that in return, his son will be granted his blessing. Cole is apprehensive, but willing.Even then, he has questions.
Relationships: Cole & Lou (Ninjago), Cole & Zane (Ninjago), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Celestial AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786705
Comments: 20
Kudos: 44





	1. Sight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McFaneLy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McFaneLy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Blessed Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826156) by [McFaneLy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McFaneLy/pseuds/McFaneLy). 



> Once again, thank you discord.
> 
> Edit: GOD DAMIT A WHOLE CHUNK GOT CUT I AM S O SORRY AAAA why must you do me so dirty AO3. Whyyyyyyyyyy. 
> 
> Anyways it’s there now. Sorry. 😔😅

He picked at the high collar of his shirt. Cole tugged at the snug fabric, irritated by the way it pressed against his skin. 

The clothes themselves he had no problem with. They were beautiful; gold trim and thread, made of flowing sheets of bright oranges and reds with cuffed sleeves and matching pants. He knew just how much must’ve gone into making this, let alone the cost of materials. 

But there was a strange, fuzzy sensation sitting just over his neck. Cole frowned and undid the clasps holding the shirt in place.

He had enough place of mind not to just throw it onto his bed. Folding it and changing into his regular brown clothes, he looked back in the mirror and thumbed at the birthmark at his throat. 

At first, the lines of blue could’ve been mistaken for just veins. But they were too perfect, connected with small dots that might have just been moles. Today though, they seemed even less distinct. 

The sun shone through his half-closed blinds. Cole counted dust motes swimming in the air. He looked around his room. Cinnamon-scented candles still burned despite the summer heat and tapestries woven with bright paintings and prayers lined the walls. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, on the opposite end of the room to the window. Falling back on fluffy pillows, Cole found himself staring up at the ceiling. He remembered painting it as a kid with his parents. He could still see his tiny handprint, framed by two more. 

“Son?” Lou poked his head through the doorway. The man was already fully dressed, makeup and costume worn with an easy grace. “Are you ready? Do you need help with the outfit? I can tie the sash for you if you’ve forgotten?”

“Oh, nah. I’m fine. Just taking a moment.” He shrugged. 

His father smiled, taking a seat beside his son and wrapping an arm over his shoulder. “I understand if you’re nervous. I’ve heard that the Sun himself will be visiting this year. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be pleased with your performance.”

“Right, yea.” Cole tried to smile. 

The hand at the back of his head dipped to settle across his birthmark.

Lou eyed the motion, the hand at his shoulder squeezed. “Cole, have you been having nightmares again?”

“No, don’t worry. I’ve been sleeping fine.” Cole promised. “Just got alot on my mind.”

“I suppose so, it’s not every day my boy turns eighteen.” His father relaxed. “Still, is there anything you want to tell me? Has it been too cold in here? We can switch out your quilts once I wash them out - “

“It’s nothing big, really. I promise.” 

The teen tried to sort out his thoughts while his father waited with a calm, yet worried expression.

“You said this was a birthmark, right?” Cole pointed to his neck. “But… well, they’re probably not supposed to glow at night. I just kinda shrugged it off. We’re both about to perform for a god who wanders around looking like a fox. I don’t know why, but it just kinda bothers me more than usual today.” 

Lou resisted the urge to nibble his lower lip. He carefully wrapped his long sleeves around his son, resting his head against his shoulder.

“It’s nothing to worry about. There’s nothing you need to fear. You’re safe, my son.”

Cole was glad his father couldn’t see his expression. He reached up to give a small pat on his back, not entirely sure if that was what he needed to hear. 

“Now, come, you’re still not dressed and we need to be at the temple in an hour. I’ll help you with the paint.”

“Dad, c’mon.”

“Am I too old to help my son?”

Cole huffed out a mix between frustration and relief. His father busied himself with pinning back his windswept hair with what felt like a dozen pins, cleaning the morning grime from his face before painting on the swirls of red to emphasize his expressions.

“Now, you remember the blocking, yes? Where do you stand right before the assassins break into the castle?” 

“Upper right side, then across down center and down left where I exit right as they’re gonna shoot me.” Cole recited, trying not to flinch as the thin brush tickled his eyelids. “After that, I’m supposed to be dead, that’s easy enough to remember.”

He felt the edge of the brush twitch as his father finished the wings of eyeliner. Cole tried to insist he dress himself, but Lou still fussed about the makeup not being dry and pinned each of the clasps and folded the sash with nimble hands. 

“Do you really think Kai’s gonna come down to watch some love story where they both die in the end?” Cole asked. “Doesn’t sound really festive.”

“It’s not the end that people watch for, son.” Lou gently scolded. “It’s the performance itself. They come to see what happens before, not how it ends.” 

“Kinda seems silly if you ask me.” He shrugged. “The prince could’ve gone and found someone else, maybe he’d find someone new to love.”

“Like I said, it’s the story they come for.” 

Cole didn’t feel like getting into a debate over something so trivial. In record time, his father finished and urged him to stand in front of the mirror. He didn’t look like himself, he supposed that was the point.

A pale face stared back at him, eyes and lips highlighted with long arches of black and red. Fading purples sweeping across his cheeks and curling down his jawline. Tilting his head, his expression shifted between pride and grieving with the slightest change in context. 

His father stood beside him. Despite his much longer career and preference for the stage, he’d given himself a much less prominent role and didn’t look nearly as fancy as his son. Lou gave him one last reassuring squeeze. 

“Come, the audience awaits.” 

Following his dad outside, Cole raised a hand to block the harsh sunlight that beat down on him. All the sounds that had been muffled by walls hit him with the fullest force.

Some people ran up to greet the pair and he offered polite waves and hellos to those he knew. Mostly, he deferred to his dad to keep most of the attention while they made their way to the main shrine where the festival was held. 

Cole could see banners and vendors selling little ivory and wooden carvings of foxes. Children were playing with unlit paper lanterns while others helped to lay streamers across their own houses. 

He held a small smile as they walked. Cole enjoyed the sound, it at least made it easier to ignore the pressing feeling against his throat. 

The massive archway that separated the shrine from the village was layered with polished bells and paper charms. People were already gathered around an unlit bonfire, laughing with one another and cheering once he and Lou came into view. 

A stage had been built specially for this occasion; sanded planks of the finest wood inlaid with gold, floating curtains made of woven silk, and a background painted over the span of weeks were to be the stage for the play that would be their tribute to the Sun. It was longer than Cole expected.

Cole kept his head tinted up, even as the heat was beginning to grow uncomfortable. Backstage, the rest of the actors congratulated him and finished applying the last of their makeup. 

Stage hands ran to their places and prepared the painted rice-sheet scenes they’d have to move. Musicians fine tuned their instruments. The teenager stole a small seat and tugged at his collar. 

It was loud, busy. He’d never cared much for this kind of atmosphere, but it did feel good to see others smile at his performances. Cole tried not to smear the makeup and mentally rehearsed his lines.

“Cole? Where is my son? Cole, it’s almost time!”

“Oh, yea, I’m here dad.” He sat up and dusted off the folds of his clothes.

“There you are.” 

Lou still took time to smooth out any lingering wrinkles and pushed back loose hair. “Don’t be nervous, they’ll love you.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna actually be fighting someone.” Cole laughed. “I’ll be fine, dad.”

He heard the soft chiming of bells from priests, the signal for both the crowd and the actors. Cole stood at the edges of the stage, settling his expression into something neutral before stepping onto the stage.

Admittedly, he didn’t understand most of what he or the other actors spoke. The language was old, Cole didn’t know the meanings of most of the words and neither did his father. It was their bodies and expressions that conveyed what wasn’t understood. 

He stood between his ragged lover as his father - another actor - and the emperor ranted. Drums beat in time with their footsteps as they took large strides towards one another in slow, tense beats.

Soon they were face to face, eyes furrowed and anger emphasized by their makeup. Cole counted the seconds before his lover pulled him back and offered soft words with a downcast face. 

He shook his head defiantly, turning back to shout at the emperor before he stormed off the stage. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Cole saw the assassins moving up the ladders and into the rafters where they were supposed to jump down from. 

A shrill flute broke the silence and a series of cries ripped through the air. Cole grabbed his lover's hand and drew his sword in the other, blocking a practiced strike that would have gone through his lover's back. 

They ran across the stage, Cole remembering to count his paces just as the thundering crash of cymbals rang clear. He fell to the ground just as his lover called out his name. 

The curtains fell and Cole was picked up by his father, a wide grin on his now clean face.

“Brilliant, absolutely amazing!” He praised. “Come, lets get you cleaned up before the Sun comes down.” 

Getting ‘cleaned up’ in his father's words meant touching up his makeup and giving him a fresh set of clothes. They were just as elaborate as the last ones, if anything, Cole could’ve sworn they were heavier. Underneath them, at least there was a much thinner shirt and pants if he wanted to shrug off the long robes. 

As the curtains raised, the emperor and his lover sat kneeling facing one another. Cole couldn’t see it, but he knew there was a short dagger between them. The woodwind instruments escalated, a singer in the back began another chant. 

The maiden cautiously reached for the blade. The flutes that acted as her voice grew shril as she unsheathed the blade. Plunging it into her stomach, all sound cut abruptly. Cole watched as the actor drifted to the ground, hand reaching up into the sky as it shook for one last second. 

The curtains were drawn one last time. Through the crowd, many people turned anxiously to the unlit pyre. Cole didn’t quite know what they were expecting. Slowly, cheers and applause began to ripple through the crowd.

That was quickly drowned by the sudden roar of fire. 

At first, Cole thought that someone was late to throw a torch into the pyre. Until he squinted and saw a foot stepping down from the rim.

“Alright, I’m impressed.” A voice called out to the stage. “Well, c’mon out, I sure as hell didn’t get a good view from the sky.”

Several happy cheers broke out onto the stage. Cole felt his father push him forward, the biggest grin on his face. The rest of the cast soon joined behind him, each trying and failing to contain their excitement. 

Out of the flames, Cole could now see the shape of a man stepping forward. Dressed in deep crimson, he would have looked like any one of the other members of the village. 

Then Cole saw the fire burning away at his back, he rushed forward to try and extinguish it and pushed his way to the front. Until he saw the fire spread into a uniform set of nine brilliant tails. His cheeks were framed with curving red marks and ontop of a mess of auburn hair were a pair of fox ears. 

His smile was toothy, confident and pleased. Cole looked up with a strange sense of familiarity. 

“I thought you were just a fox.” He spluttered.

The god blinked. Cole heard someone gasp behind him. Then the Celestial laughed.

“Honestly, it’s comfier than walking on four legs than two. No clue how you manage it,” He stuck out a hand tipped with trimmed amber claws, “call me Kai.” 

“Cole.”

Shaking his hand, the warmth was what hit him first. His palms felt like they had been pressed against a hot mug. But there was something wrong.

Cole couldn’t name it. Just a sense that he wasn’t supposed to be holding the Celestials hand. The itching at his throat grew stronger. Kai furrowed his eyebrows.

“Damn, who blessed you? They must’ve been feeling real generous,” He commented, then sniffed the air in front of him, “You smell funny, what kinda perfume do you use?”

“I - what? What do you mean ‘blessed’?” Cole asked. 

“You don’t feel it?” Kai squinted. 

“Great Sun, please, there must be something you can give my son.”

Cole turned to see his dad pushing his way to the front of the line of actors. This time, exasperation tipped into outright confusion. His father fell to his knees in front of Kai. 

“Please, I humbly request you offer him your blessing. With your power, it must be possible.”

“Dad, it’s fine. I don’t really need it anyways.”

“You guys deserve something after that show.” 

Kai was still holding his hand, he realized. Cole saw a slow, pulsing orange glow under the markings on the Celestials face. 

“Wait, wait hold on. What exactly are you giving me?” He said warrily. 

“A fraction of my powers. Don’t worry, it’s nothing crazy I promise.” Kai explained briefly. “Just calm down, it doesn’t hurt.” 

Cole stared down at their connected hands. Kai’s entire body began to glow like a second sun. The itch at his throat suddenly flared. 

“Wait, wait!” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pull away. The Celestial opened his mouth to say something. Cole felt something spread across his body.

A sudden rush of cold spread from his neck down. Kai snarled and jerked back, holding his palm. The actors behind him screamed and covered their eyes. 

Cole couldn’t feel the ground under him for a single, breathless moment. His bones felt hollow. All around him, there was nothing but soothing silence. A deep, all encompassing sense of peace filled him. 

Then, his knees were hitting solid wood. He gasped, heat and voices crashing back against him all at once. 

“Son!” 

Lou was grabbing at his shoulders, turning to face him. His perfect makeup and hair were windswept and his eyes were wide with horror. 

“Son, are you hurt? What happened? What did the Moon do to you?” 

“I - what? What are you talking about, I’m fine.” 

“The hell did you just do?!” 

Kai’s yell made him finally look up. The Celestial was knocked back against the pyre, looking at him with a mystified expression. Around him, he saw people knocked over in a circle with him at the center. 

The other actors pushed themselves up, each in different states of disarray. Most were unharmed, their hair and costumes blown back and ruined. People helped one another up and once they did, took cautious steps back from the stage. 

“I… I don’t know.” Cole whispered. “I don’t - “ 

The fuzzy-cool pressure at his throat was too irritating to ignore now. Cole reached up and yaned the collar open, breaking the claps as he shoved himself out of the elaborate costume. Rubbing at his neck, he saw Kai fixate on his birthmark. 

“I knew there was something off about your smell.” He pointed. “Who gave you that much power?” 

“I don’t know!” Cole yelled. 

“Son, please, calm down.” Lou begged. “We can fix this, Great Sun, perhaps you could - “ 

Cole grabbed his fathers hand, looking up with a begging face.. “What’s happening to me? You said something about the moon? What does it have to do with any of this?” 

The actors face was plain with fear and apprehension. “It - it’s nothing that can’t be stopped. You’ll be safe Cole, please, just let the Sun fix this.” 

“I’m not okay!” He yelled. 

Cole broke his grip and jumped off the stage. He didn’t know why, or where he was going. His feet just told him to run, to escape the noise and the people who parted like he was some kind of plague. 

He didn’t stop until he found himself in the edges of the village, near the docks where fishermen and trader came. There was a barrel full of water Cole used to dunk his head in to wash off the makeup that cacked his face. 

Gasping and panting, he looked down at his warped reflection. Cole could see that he was glowing. 

Pale light flowed through his bones, quickly evaporating in the harsh sunlight. It seeped back up his forearm, bicep and across his collarbones to condense at the birthmark at his throat. The diamond gave one last pulse of blue light before dimming back to almost nothing. 

Cole pushed back his hair and scrubbed off the last marks of red and white paint. He slumped against the barrel and held his head between his knees.


	2. Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this days prompt was AU/OC
> 
> I said Both is Good. 
> 
> _Even if most of them are basically cameos from Discord but shhhhhhh._

Cole heard distant voices down the street. 

“-ommie, he should be somewhere here. I hope he’ll talk to us after what happened.”

“You sure you didn’t see war happening in your dream, Starr?”

He looked through dripping hair to see two people turn the corner. At first, Cole assumed they’d been from the festival and were searching for him. But then he squinted and looked at their outfits. 

They weren’t anything he’d expect someone to wear for the celebration, they weren’t anything he’d seen. Period. One was wearing a long white kimono and a blue hooded cloak that was cut off at their waist. The second was dressed in a loose black shirt and pants, thick-soled boots and a leather cap and goggles. 

The former was dragging the other by the hand, looking down the streets. Their eyes landed on him and they pointed. Cole sat up and washed off the rest of the makeup. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, confusion still squirming against his insides.

As they got closer, he considered just telling them to leave him along. But there was something about them that felt - if not familiar - calming. Some strange sixth sense said to hear them out. 

The man in the cloak stepped forward. He could only see the lower half of their face as they smiled. “Hi Cole, don’t panic. I know what happened at the festival, we’re not here from your father and we can tell you more about your birthmark if you come with us.” 

Cole’s hand hovered over his neck. “Wh - how did you know - ” 

“I wish I could say more, but there’ll be a search party coming here in a few minutes.”

He pushed up his hood. They had auburn hair that fell in messy waves, tied back from their forehead. His skin was a light tan that contrasted against the blue dots across their face. 

Cole thought they were just moles, but their position was too exact to just be a blemish. There was a triangle of dots on his forehead and two more on his cheeks, each connected with barely visible blue lines. 

“Call me Starr. Me and Dommie are like you.” He said, offering a hand. “We’ve gotta go, I don’t remember exactly how long we have until they start coming.” 

The sight of the strange-familiar marking pinged another, long forgotten memory he couldn’t place. Cole decided to take the other man's hand and was quickly pulled into the space between two of the houses.

Just as they did, he turned around to see another group of people - they were definitely from the temple - running through and calling his name. 

“How did you know?” He whispered.

“Shh.” Dommie hissed. “Not now or we’ll have to war.”

“What?”

“They mean we can tell you more back at our place.” Starr clarified.

Cole was more confused than scared of these people. He didn’t know which was better. They led him across rickety wood docks and between thin alleys. Every so often, Starr would stop them at random. Sometimes another person would pass them, sometimes nothing happened.

He bit his tongue and just made a mental list of all the things he was going to demand answers for. As they made their way across the village, the houses grew further apart. Off in the distance, Cole could see the outlines of mountains cutting through the sky. 

“Alright, I think we have a few hours before anything else happens. Give or take.” Starr mused. 

They stopped in front of a one story house. There weren’t any streamers or bright red decorations for the Sun. The only noticeable detail Cole could see were small, well tended bushels of flowers.

But even in the bright afternoon sunlight, their white petals were curled shut. Looking at them made his skin crawl. Cole quickly followed the two into their house.

Inside, it was the complete opposite of his own. The walls were festooned with all sorts of pictures, painting and what looked like a board covered in letters. But the walls themselves were painted a soft grey-blue, in front of him was a low table and several cushions guests could sit on.

Dommie kicked off their boots and marched behind a rice wall painted like the night sky. “You a tea or a coffee guy? Or both?” 

“Hm, oh, I’m okay.”

“Both it is.” 

Starr rolled his eyes as he hung up his cloak. “Dommie, don’t kill him with caffeine. He doesn’t stay up past three like we do.”

“Shut up, or war!”

“Love you too Dommie.”

There was a scream from the kitchen that made Cole flinch. Starr only smiled and gestured to the open room. “Don’t mind them, they’re an eight-year old. Feel free to relax. I’ll make sure Dommie doesn’t accidentally poison you.” 

“Oh, got it. Thanks.”  
Cole tucked his shoes away and started examining some of the walls. He realized that most of the paintings were in different styles, with two being the most common. One was smoother, with round faces, while the other was angular and tended to feature a lot of red. 

The subject of most of these paintings were people at night. Their features were vague, but through the body language Cole could see all of them were happy. Sometimes there was just one, other there were over a dozen. 

There was a painting of a temple on a mountain, the moon shining between its archways. Next to that, were the letters. Cole wondered if they were the people in the painting.

All their names were strange and sounded weird as he read them aloud. “Fane the Griever, Rail of the Calming Monastery, Exi-Ran, Echos, Ally the Ally?”

“Yea, they’re all awesome.” Starr said, stepping back into the room. “We met most of ‘em while we were traveling. It’s honestly a really funny story, but it’d take too long to explain.” 

“I hope I don’t sound rude, but why are their names… well, kinda weird.” 

“Most of them are from whole other continents. Me and Dommie came here cause I had a dream about meeting you.” 

“So, you have visions?” Cole squinted.

Starr shrugged, brushing hair away from his cheek. “Not really? Once I figure out how this even works, I’ll tell you. I guess the best way to put it is that I see different events in my dreams. I don’t know when they take place and some details I forget, but they always lead to something interesting.” 

Dommie stuck their head through the doorway. “Like that one cabin you found! The one with all the writing in it.”

“Oh yea, that was fun,” He reached for a set of looseleaf paper pinned to the board, “too bad we never found a pen name.”

Starr soon returned to the kitchen, coming back carrying a steaming teapot and Dommie carrying a tray and balancing three cups in their hands. They set them down and poured tea as Starr smoothed down his kimono.

He reached for one of the cups, then drew his hands back. “Damit Dommie, I told you it’s too hot.”

“Do you want to war right now? Because I will.” They threatened. 

Starr just frowned and pushed the cup into their hands. “Just cool it down. Please?”

Cole watched the playful growl turn soft in less than a moment. “Sure, starlight.”

He expected the other to just blow on the cup. Instead, they waved their hand across the top and a thin layer of frost appeared over the rim before evaporating. Cole saw another set of blue dots on their hand. 

Starr took a small sip and smiled. “Thank you, bae.” He winked. Dommie hid their face and muffled screams into their sleeves. 

“Um, so can you guys tell me what is happening to me?” Cole brushed his throat. “What’s this supposed to mean? Where’d you get your powers from? I’ve never heard of people getting blessed with future visions or cold powers.”

Starr gestured to the now kneeling Dommie. “They know more about this than I do, I just happened to be caught in their path.”

“It’s only thanks to you that I’ve gotten this far.” They grinned.

The man blushed and Cole couldn’t help but smile at their antics. Dommie set down their cup and pulled out a scroll from their shirt. 

“So, you know about the Sun Celestial, Kai, right?” They asked. 

“Who doesn’t.” 

Dommie carefully laid the scroll onto the table. The paper was weathered, old and falling to pieces. Cole set his cup down and struggled to read the faded ink.

It was a poem and a picture. Blue and black paint was muddied and wrinkled, the silver letters were scratched and some parts were missing altogether. The nights sky hung over a pale, full moon and atop it, there was a man.

His features are indistinguishable, his body flowing and faded. Cole could make out white hair, soft blue robes and glowing blue eyes that looked up and into the void filled with nothing but lost letters. 

The poem itself spoke of a lone god - Cole couldn’t find a name - who sat in the sky as he watched mortals in the depths of night. He was quiet, but caring. Distant, yet longing. His heart twisted in sympathy at the idea of someone so lonely. 

Cole looked up to the couple, both much more somber. He glanced behind them and realized that the man on the moon was the subject of nearly all their paintings.

His face was drawn with different angles, his posture ranging from looming to intimate. One massive mural had him stretching his sleeve across the entire sky as a group of people danced under moonlight. 

“The Moon Celestial isn’t as popular as the Sun, most cause nobody knows what they even look like and there’s no real ‘code’ to follow.” Dommie said. “Before I met Starr and the others, I thought I was the only one who even followed the Moon.”

They rolled up the scroll. Starr smoothed his hand across the dots on the back of their hand.

“I don’t know why I got this,” they held up their hand, “and Starr doesn’t either. But I remember just falling asleep and wanting… war if I know; peace, comfort, something. I woke up and found this on my hand. The next town I came to, I was invited to a small party and that’s when I met him.”

They pressed a kiss to Starr's forehead. He shoved the other back with a giggle. 

“Yea, I can take it from here.” He said. “The party wasn’t anything big, a wandering bard named Koki convinced me and Dommie to join. It was kinda scary, but fun. We still keep in contact with most of those people. A lot of them are also followers of the Moon.” 

Starr pointed to the wall full of names. Cole was touched by the story, but he still had questions.

“So, neither of you can tell me how you got those marks? Not even who the Moon is?”

Dommie bit their lip. “Most of the others knew bits and pieces about the Moon. Again, they’re not as ‘get in your face’ as that fox. Koki actually knows the most, she’ll be coming around in a few.”

“Are you okay with staying till then?” Starr asked. “I understand if you want to go home, I saw bits about your father in my dreams. He really does love you, you know.”

“I figured.” Cole mumbled. “He’s always been… hovering.” 

Hovering was an understatement. Cole’s clearest memories were his father telling him that he was never allowed to wander at night. Even now - as an adult - he enforced that rule. 

He brushed at his throat. “My dad thinks that the Moon did something to me. Whatever it was, it surprised The Sun. Is that a bad sign?”

Dommie shrugged. “All I know is that the more powerful your blessing, the more powers you get.”

“Not really, it depends on who you ask.” Starr added. “Some people would kill to be able to freeze things like you.”

“No you, starlight.”

Cole only sighed and managed a weak smile. As selfish as it might have been, he wanted - needed - to know more. Afterwards, the couple entertained him with more lighthearted stories about their little group of followers. 

The sun was setting as Dommie and Starr re-enacted an event somehow involving a trumpet, a plethora of screaming and what sounded like an actual war. 

In the middle of their makeshift play, there was a quiet knock at the door. Starr set down the paintbrushes he’d been waving threateningly and opened the door. A woman stepped through and set her shoes down before joining them on the floor. 

“Afternoon to you all.” She nodded. “Ah, a new soul. What called you here, stanger?”

“I honestly do not know.” Cole said honestly. 

“Hm, do any of us?” 

Starr and Dommie laughed, the former disappearing into the back of the house. 

“You said you needed that new puppet for your play?” Starr called. “The… what was it called? Something about a metal boy and a ghost?”

“Indeed, though I’ve yet to find the words, their sails have already been set.” Koki nodded. 

There was something about the way she spoke that made Cole feel strange. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something there.

“Uh, so Dommie told me you know a lot about the Moon?” He asked tentatively. 

“I know only what others tell.” Koki said. “They are few, a chime amidst screams. But I’ll speak what I have learned with time. What it means is for you to decide.” 

Something thudded in the background and Dommie swore and ran to help their spouse. Koki watched with a small smile before turning to him. Pulling off a notebook from their back, she laid out a list of words. 

Above one, there was a painted yellow sun. On the second page, a silver moon. 

“Such as it’s face’s wane and wax, so too does the doctrine of those who follow the Moon.” She spoke. “Between most, they are never the same. These are the threads I have found, I doubt any has seen the tapestry.” 

Koki traced her fingertip down the page. “Restraint; in action and in speech. To most, it means to keep one from being rash and to never boast. It means to hold oneself back. Compassion; for there are many who the Moon sees cry to none but it’s distant face. His light blankets all.”

“Are these what people think of the Moon? Or are they what the Moon is like?” Cole asked.

The storyteller hummed to herself. “Can the audience tell the musician what their song says to them?”

Cole pinched his nose. “I mean, maybe? But the Celestial aren’t just street performers, they’re practically gods.”

“Another question for another time, perhaps.” Koki said, tucking away her notebook. “It is late, you should return to your home.”

He looked and saw that it was just bordering on twilight. “I should. Tell Dommie and Starr thanks for everything.”

“They deserve it, and far more.” 

The storyteller led him to the door. As Cole slipped on his shoes, he gave her one last glance. 

Her face was uncanny. If he looked long enough, he could swear there was someone - more than one even - person staring back.

“Do I know you?” He asked cautiously. 

“Hm, perhaps.” Koki smiled. “In another life, another time or another world and under a different sun. A blend of two, or three, or none. Regardless, good luck Cole.”

She pushed the door open. The heat of the evening was gone, replaced with cool air and a gentle wind. Cole turned to wave, but found that there was nobody to say goodbye to. 

He didn’t think too hard about that and walked down the dirt path back to the village.


	3. Sanctity

The colours of twilight flowed like a grand river overhead; deep amber bleeding into peach pink and sleepy lavenders. Cole tried not to fixate on the sight and instead, focused on making it back before it got too dark. 

As he made his way back through the village, people would see him and immediately change direction. Some were more subtle than others - at one point he swore he heard someone scream - but they kept clear of him as he walked. 

Cole didn’t know what to say. He wouldn’t know how he’d react if he himself had witnessed what had happened at the shrine that morning. All if it felt so surreal, as if he’d walked in and out of a dream.

Coming back to his house, the two story house felt looming. Cole could still see the incense and candles burning behind the curtains. If anything, the light inside the building was stronger than outside. He swallowed and brushed at his throat. 

The door was ajar, he leaned in cautiously. “Dad? I’m sorry, I’m back.”

He expected rapid footsteps and loud demands about where he’d been, but when the door creaked open;the only thing that greeted him was the cloying smell of cinnamon and candle wax. 

Cole couldn't help but feel anxious walking down the lit hallways. With all the tapestries and charms already hanging from the walls, he’s amazed none of them have caught fire. Holding a hand over his nose, he checked the kitchen and living rooms for his dad. 

Upstairs, Cole had to stop at the stairwell and stare at the image. His door had a massive flag pinned to the wood, a visage of the Sun with gold writing spelling out a prayer to the celestial. All the heat from underneath gathered on top and made the air feel sticky and heavier than any costume. 

He found the door to his dad's room was hanging open. The son's heart skipped a beat, thinking that he’d been kidnapped. But he reasoned there was no sign of a struggle, so he was probably just out looking for him. 

Guilt piled itself on his back, but he ignored it for now. Glancing from the doorway, Cole could see a mess of papers and scrolls strewn about the walls and low bed. He frowned and stepped inside for a better look. 

They weren’t as old as the ones Starr and Dommie provided, but Cole stared hard at the contents. More pictures of what the writing said was the Moon Celestial. He was nothing like the paintings the couple had made, though. 

This Moon was a dark shadow, cresting over the skies and earth. His face was blank, body indistinguishable from the night sky. In one image, Cole saw him wielding a white spear raised against the Sun. 

The poems and scripture were all warnings about the faceless entity. They spoke of creeping moonlight, sudden and voiceless disappearances accompanied by nothing save the softed cries in the dead of night. Cole turned over one scroll and saw a screaming man clawing at his head, threads of silver light streaming from his eyes and ears.

Cole glanced back to the scrolls littering the floor. He tried to meet the images of the soft, shielding Celestial the couple painted with the menacing figure his dad knew. They fit together like broken pottery from different bowls. 

He gathered all of the paper into a loose pile away from the flames. His dad wasn’t here. Cole pulled at his hair and tried to think of where he’d go to search for him, or at least where his dad would go if he were scared or panicked.   
The teen made sure to lock the doors behind him as he made his way back outside. Jogging back to the shrine to the Sun, he was surprised to find that most of the villagers were still present.

Most had changed from their festival clothes. Almost everyone was wearing red or red cloaks. Where the stage had been only hours before, now there was only a pole set up and facing towards the setting sun. Cole was unnerved by the sight and took a half step back. 

“Son!”

He turned and caught his father as he ran to him. Lou cupped his cheek, turning his face and pressing a rough hand against his throat. Cole flinched hard, the warmth making his skin itch. 

“What happened? Where did the Moon take - it doesn’t matter. Come, we still have time before the solstice is over, it isn’t too late. We can lift your curse.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?” Cole shook his hands off and pointed to his neck. “What curse? Kai said this was a blessing. It’s from the Moon Celestian, how can it be a curse?”

“No, no that isn’t any blessing, son.” Lou shook his head. “Please, just trust me. I’ve tried everything, read everything but there’s almost nothing left to try. This is the only way, please, before the Moon takes you again.”

Cole pinched his eyebrows. He looked to the pole standing tall in the middle of the stage. He pressed his palm to his forehead and there was a phantom sensation of something thin and cold on his neck. Swallowing, a sickly, thick feeling curled around his stomach.

“Dad, please, this isn’t a curse. A couple found me, they knew about the Moon too and they even had the same marks like me!” He insisted. 

Lou’s face was animated with emotion. The fear was so painfully clear, but Cole could see sadness muddied and mixed with determination and love. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “You’re confused, scared. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to do.”

Cole heard the dirt behind him shift. As he registered the sound - how did he hear something like that? - someone grabbed his wrists and bound them with a ribbon. He screamed and thrashed as the priests tied down his hands and threw a red cloak over his shoulder. 

“Dad! Dad stop! I don’t want this, please!” 

Lou didn’t look away, Cole could see the tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Cole gasped as he felt something wrap around his throat. He caught sight of a red ribbon with golden lettering, the same he’d seen strung around his house. He never understood why his father always kept so many. 

The ribbon was wrapped several times around his neck. Each time the pressure multiplied, Cole thought he was suffocating. It wasn’t that tight, but the static against his skin grew stronger and stronger, until it felt like he was choking. 

He still fought as he was dragged across the ground. Everyone around him looked down with pitying faces. Cole jerked against the priests and nearly broke free, only for someone to shove him back into their hands. 

Still kicking and screaming, Cole was lead to the pole and held against it as thicker ropes were pulled against his chest. He couldn’t find the strength to scream anymore. Each breath was a struggling, frail gasp against hot air and Cole fought to stop himself from hyperventilating. 

He was shaking so hard it rattled the pole, shoulders jerking and pressing as tight as he could against his sides. Somehow, this feeling of helplessness felt painfully, horribly familiar. 

The priests began chanting something in the archaic language of the plays he’d memorized since he was a child. He tried to turn his head to the crowd, to find someone who’d help him. He wanted his dad to rush up and pull him down. Cole couldn’t find his face. 

Another priest marched up the stairs, carrying a clay pot with steam curling around the rim. Cole turned his face away, feet kicking against wood to try and force himself away. The chanting paused for a moment as water rushed over his head. 

It wasn’t boiling, but only just. Steaming water dripped and pooled around his feet. His skin felt painfully raw. Cole coughed and panted, hair falling against his cheeks and clothes hanging wet. He was only partially aware when the chants began again.

Looking up to the horizon, the last golden glow of the sun was starting to disappear. The skies were now a rich, royal purple and deep indigo. Cole could almost see the stars. 

“Now we ask the Great Sun to purge the sickness from this child.” The priest had switched back to english. He knelt with his forehead against the wood and the rest of the people followed. 

Breathing was the only thing he could focus on. Cole leaned his head back against the pole, letting his eyes fall shut and lips parted. He gave one last shaky exhale.

“Please.” He asked. “Help me.” 

There was nothing but summer wind, sticky humidity and the smell of smoke around him. Cole strained his senses for some sign that anyone - _anything_ \- had heard him. 

Blinking slowly, Cole looked up into the first shades of a calm, dark night sky. The air around him felt calm, somehow. His next breath came easier and Cole drank it greedily with loud gasps. 

That same cool, soothing feeling filled his body and this time, Cole looked down. The same, pale light was growing and wrapped itself around him. He felt the pressure at his throat and chest suddenly drop, the ribbons and rope falling to the ground. 

His own feet were numb and Cole pitched forward. 

Something - someone - caught him. A soft, careful hand held his chest and back. Cole tried to look up and see who was holding him, but all he could see was misty blue light. 

He tried to say ‘thank you’ just as his vision cut to black.

_Cole remembers floating, the sensation of weightlessness and endless nothing below him. He can sense the Moon, both by his side and surrounding him. He’s drifting aimlessly through the night. It’s quiet._

_He feels his back settling against clouds, his fingers brush them and they feel like no silk or texture he can describe. Cole squints and sees the Moon._

_His face is beautiful; glowing eyes and skin, with robes that sway in unseen winds._

_Blinking one, his features start to grow fuzzy. Cole reaches up. He can’t forget, he needs to know the perfect plains, commit them to memory so he can never forget._

_The clouds part under him, Cole feels himself be lowered back below. Before the Moon leaves, he brushes his hand against his cheek and presses his forehead to his._

_Cole hears the Moon whisper a name._

He jerks forward. The first thing Cole realizes is that he’s still soaked, but he’s lying in a pool of water. He pushed back dripping hair and searched his surroundings.

The pool he’s lying in sits at the center of what looks like an overgrown shrine. The surface of the water is dotted with glowing specks of blue, with the water itself shining silver in the moonlight. 

Cole can see worn cobblestones lining the basin, etched with worn and swirling patterns. Both his hands reach up and pull hard at his hair. For a moment, Cole almost convinces himself that it was all just some terrible dream. 

“Shit, guys the kid is awake.”

He jumps to his feet at the new voice. There’s a small gathering of people standing under a broken stone wall. At the front wasa man with a red cone hat and worn armour. He held his hands up and gave a reassuring - if awkward - smile. 

“Hey, hey don’t worry we’re not gonna hurt you.” He promised. “Names Ronin. Avi and Echos are the ones who found you first.”

An elderly man and young teen with brown and bleached tips each gave small waves. Ronin set his hat down and Cole realized he wore an eyepatch. He sat at the edge of the pool with a tight expression. 

“Uh, you seemed pretty shaken up. You didn’t stop till Avi mentioned putting you in here. Don’t ask me why it helped, I keep my distance from celestial nonsense.” 

Cole pushed himself onto the edge, but let his feet hang in the water. Then Cole gasped.

“Zane! Does anyone have a pencil? Please, this is important!” 

Echos immediately reached behind them and tossed a small pad and charcoal pen. Cole caught it and hastily scribbled down the face of the Moon Celestial. He had to wipe his hands to keep the pen from smudging and even then he had black marks on his hands and paper.

Cole focused and tried to map out the face of the beautiful man. It wasn’t perfect - there were still details missing and Cole wished for paints - but he felt good to see him again.

Avi hobbled forward, kneeling and looking over his shoulder. “You’ve seen him too, then, the Quiet Moon. He must favour you, few receive his blessing.” 

“I mean… I guess,” Cole mumbled, offering the pad back to the teen, “sorry. Thanks for letting me use it.”

“Woah, this is really good!” They said. “Is it okay if I show this to a friend, their name’s Starr.” 

“Oh, yea. Tell them I said thanks too.” He added, now recalling their name from the letter board. 

Despite the terrible things that resulted from learning more from the couple, Cole was grateful he’d learned it. He massages his neck, careful to avoid the marks over his throat. They still prickled with cold and combined with the cool air, it was starting to border on uncomfortable.

“Right, sorry we don’t have a lot of spare clothes,” Ronnin pulled off a small travel pack and offered a simple shirt and pants, “we’re the sort of folk who need to travel light.” 

Cole accepted their dry clothes. Stepping behind cover and hanging his dripping clothes, he eyed the trio warily.“And what kind of people are you?” 

The man just shrugged. “It’s in my name, kid. I just don’t like being tied down. No clue what the others deal is.”

“The others are standing right here.” Echos rolled their eyes. “And there’s not much to me either. I draw and sometimes a merchant will ask for a portrait. Every now and then, I’ll meet up with Pax and others like you to trade stories and be dumbasses.”

Cole blinked. “Like me?” 

“Forgive me if I’m mistaken,” Avi cut in, “but are you not also a follower of the Moon? Hm, then again, your father would make things rather complicated if you were.” 

The mention of his dad made Cole want to shrink and hide under a rock. If he focused, he could still see a mass of red, faceless hoods watching him as he begged. 

“Kid? Hey, you still with us?” Ronin gently shook his shoulder.

Cole shook his head and sighed. “I’ll be okay… oh god dad must be panicking right now.”

He didn’t see what happened to him, but he could imagine it. As conflicted as he felt about his father, Cole didn’t want him to think he was missing or even dead. 

“If it’s urgent, I could bring a message to him.” Avi offered. Echos was already folding back a new sheet of paper for him to use. “It will be of no issue.”

“How… nevermind,” Cole accepted the pad with a smile, “thank you.” 

Ronin grinned. “Don’t mention it, kid. Just be happy I’m not gonna ask you for payment.” The teenw still japped him with their shoulder as a warning

“Oh, my name’s Cole.” He realized he hadn’t introduced himself. 

“Too late, kid, it’s already stuck.” Echos said. 

The darker teen only huffed. He looked at the blank paper, trying to find the words to say what he wanted. His fingers twitched and rolled the pen, leaving more smudges on his hands. 

Cole didn’t want to ruin the pen, so he laid it on the mossy stones and stared out into the pool. Compared to the Sun Shrine - compared to most, he figured - this place looked humble and almost meek. 

Perhaps in some distant past, this would have been a grand cathedral made of fine marble and stained glass. But now it was a scattered array of grey stones, glowing water and moss. Cole could hear an owl hooting between trees and see a bunny standing in the grass. 

“Hey little guy,” he held out his hand and waited while the animal considered whether or not to get closer. 

Cole smiled when he saw it step forward, nudged his fingers with a pink nose, then lowered its head to let the teen pet it. Echo smiled softly and sat beside him.

“Luck you, those guys are actually one of the Moon's animals.” Then mentioned.

“Really?” He recalled seeing the Celestian drawn with dark wings in one of his fathers scrolls. “What about crows?”

“Nah, falcons I think.” Echos said. They flipped through their pad, Cole couldn’t help but see the drawings of the Moon. 

They noticed his staring and tilted them forward. The performer's son could see elements of both the couple and his father's scrolls. The Moon was looming, all-seeing, hovering and calm. He noticed that his face looked the closest to his own sketch.

“Have you met him?” He asked. 

“I’ve seen him a few times.” They shrugged. “He’s not scary, at least I don’t think so. He’s always been distant. I guess that’s the simplest way to put it.” 

Cole looked out onto the pool. The surface didn’t look distrubed at all and he realized that it reflected a perfect, full moon. But in the sky it was only a crescent.

“What do I even tell my dad?” He whispered, turning to the trio for any answer. “How do I say that I’m terrified of going back? How am I supposed to tell him that I don’t think I can trust his judgment after - after he raised me by himself after mom died?”

Cole hid his face between his hands, muffling his sobs. “Am I being selfish? Maybe I should just go back… maybe it won’t be so bad.” 

He was suddenly imagining all the different rituals his father would beg him to try to remove the little blue dots at his throat. Cole could still feel the burn of hot water, taste the steam and the thickness of the air around him. He rubbed at his wrists. Cole could still feel the smooth silk digging into his skin. 

“Maybe it’ll be alright.”

Cole heard Ronin sigh above him. “I can’t tell you what to do, kid. I’ve only ever looked out for myself first.”

“If you are not willing to go back to the village, there is a shrine to the Moon.” Avi offered. “It lies within his sight every night, far from here and atop the mountains.”

The teen rubbed at his cheek, his hand drifting down to his throat and back. 

“If I want to - to run away.” He swallowed. “Do you think it’s the right thing to do?”

Echo’s twisted a lock of their hair. Cole could see weathered lines down her cheek, but her eyes were wide and youthful. 

“I think… that if something hurts you, the best thing to do is to get away from it. Until you’re ready to face it again.” 

Cole considered her words. He looked down at the paper. Now, it was wrinkled in the spot where his thumb had pressed into it. Quietly, he turned to Avi.

“How fast can you get this to him?”

“As swiftly as the wind carries me.” The elder bowed. “Very fast, to be blunt.”

“Thank you.”

Cole tried to fit as much as he needed to, but it was hard to convey everything with just words. The three sat behind him in silence, only perking up once he handed the letter to Avi. 

“C’mon, I’ve got a camp set up under the willows.” Echos said. “And you won’t have to pay for your bedroll.”

Ronin grabbed his hat and readjusted his armour. “I got no defence.”

“Thank you guys, really.” Cole smiled. “Thank you so much.”


End file.
